


just a little rush, babe

by fruitwhirl



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, the 100 au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitwhirl/pseuds/fruitwhirl
Summary: “I have the highest chance of survival, Percy.”He bites his lip, squats down next to her, feels the sting of frost even through the rubber of his pant. “We could go back—”“We have to be smart about this. By the time Hazel and Frank get here, there won’t be enough time for the bunker. It’s a twelve hour drive,” she interrupts, and she sounds so tired. “And I know you can’t leave Leo in the lab to die.”(a "the 100" au)





	just a little rush, babe

**Author's Note:**

> this was not technically a prompt, but @heythatsmypercy on tumblr asked me to write something percabeth, and since i'm working on a bunch of long fics, i decided i needed a break. 
> 
> thus, this.
> 
> spoilers for season 4 finale of the 100, "praimfaya." title from hozier's "sedated."

In the end, the only thing that really matters to him is that Annabeth is alive and that they’re _together_. Big picture, _yes,_ he’s grateful that they’ve all made it to the lab, but the moment she’d taken off her suit for the warrior who had followed them (saved them) into the woods, something sick and heavy attached itself to his heart. It only sank deeper into his chest when she started coughing, _heaving,_ spitting pitch on the ground as the poisoned air around her took hold, suffocated her. Each breath she struggled with, Percy could feel himself choking.

“Hurry,” he’d told Hazel; their vehicle’s engine had been destroyed in the crash.

There was a pregnant pause over the radio, and then, “Annabeth?”

The words stopped in his throat as his gaze briefly swept over her crouched form; the black of her blood an ink splatter against the otherwise white canvas of snow. He almost makes newcomer Ethan give the garment back (almost gives her _his_ own suit), so that he can make sure _his person_ is okay is going to be alive is going to survive all of this, but as if she can read his mind—he doesn’t put anything past her these days—she just shakes her head vehemently, explains that she’d at least had the blood transfusion, she had the best bet of surviving.

“I have the highest chance of survival, Percy.”

He bites his lip, squats down next to her, feels the sting of frost even through the rubber of his pant. “We could go back—”

“We have to be smart about this. By the time Hazel and Frank get here, there won’t be enough time for the bunker. It’s a twelve hour drive,” she interrupts, and she sounds so tired. “And I know you can’t leave Leo in the lab to die.”

He gives up on arguing; she’s too prideful and too stubborn and too goddamn _right._ Instead, he settles for taking her hand in his, an offer of comfort in a time where he’s not sure either of them deserve it. But she twines their fingers nonetheless, and he focuses on the warmth it gives him.

 

 

 

He’s grateful to be able to hear his mother and stepfather’s voice again, no matter how noise-ridden the feed is. Percy gets to say goodbye to the woman who raised him, and the man who will make sure she’s loved even in her son’s absence.

Just as she’s talking about how many children were saved in the bunker, of Reyna who has united them all, he sees Annabeth in the doorway, pale but standing, smiling even. He turns back to the receiver, asks his mother to find Grover and Thalia so that the blonde can make her temporary farewell, too. But then, there’s just static.

“I’m so sorry, Annabeth,” he starts to say, but before he can even get to the third syllable, she’s in his arms, and he tightens his hold on her, and _fuck,_ he won’t ever let her go. He doesn’t know if he’ll even be able to. But right now, he presses his lips into the yellow of her curls, clutches her to him until he can feel the steady thrum of her heartbeat.

 

 

 

He knows that face; it’s the face she makes when she needs to tell him something but can’t bring herself to. But she opens anyway, with some crack about oxymorons, about _only choices,_ and Percy doesn’t entirely know where she’s going with it. But he plays along, brushes away a curl that’s stuck to her forehead, lets his palm linger on her cheek until she sighs and he lets his hand drop.

And then she starts. “Percy, if anything happens to me—”

“Nothing’s happening to you.” It’s his turn to cut her off, and he doesn’t even notice that his hands have moved to grip her shoulders, maybe in an effort to punctuate his point. Make it true. _Real._

Tears sting at the back of eyes, but she’s launched into a huge spiel, and he turns away, tries to redirect her attention, but she won’t have it. “If for some reason I’m not up there with you, you have to take care of them. We had a rough two years, Perce, but everything you did, you did for your mother and Grover.” _And you,_ he wants to interject. “You’ve got such a big heart, but I need you to use your head, too.”

Her fingers tap his heart, his temple, and he takes her hand in his again, presses his lips to the knuckles lightly, soft.  When he does this, her breath catches, and he has this overwhelming need to kiss her, but now’s not the right time. Instead, he lets her sigh, lets her eyes well up with salted water, lets her tell him to leave her behind if he has to.

Fat chance.

Even hell couldn’t keep him from her.

 

 

It turns out that it isn’t hell that separates them, but a fucking oxygen scrubber.

They’re headed to the satellite tower, with hopes of aligning the dish so that they can do some sort of technology shit that only Annabeth and Leo understand, when they hear a yelp in the distance. And then Piper’s running up to them, out of breath and terror painted across her features.

She explains hurriedly that Jason lost one of his gloves while they were transporting the huge machine from the lighthouse bunker, and she can’t carry it by herself, and neither can Leo, and then someone—he doesn’t even know who—but someone is telling him that he has to go help, and he turns to Annabeth and even through the glass he can see the sheer panic flood her eyes, and when Leo says that the satellite tower is really a one-man job he nearly screams.

Leo starts to offer to go himself, but then Annabeth shakes her head abruptly. “I’m not a rocket scientist; you are, Valdez. I can’t fly the ship, but I can do this. Go install the scrubber.” Then she starts doing that thing where she scrunches her nose and furrows her brow when she needs to concentrate, when she’s trying to find the best strategy for whatever situation they’ve got themselves in. “It’s a seven minute walk, five minute activation, I should be fine. Don’t argue or we’ll lose time, Percy.”

The last part is directed to Percy. He’s about to object, but _fuck,_ she’s right. “Annabeth—”

“Just hurry, Percy,” she says, her voice thick with something like tears. And, and then she’s gone.

                                                                                      

 

 

That’s the last time he sees her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> yikes.
> 
> catch me at [dmigod](http://dmigod.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


End file.
